At the Earl's Convenience (13 page)

Amelia enveloped her in a perfumed hug. “Did Pem say something to upset you? It would be most unlike him.”

Still prodding
. Selina extricated herself from Amelia’s embrace. “Heavens no. I have a headache as I’ve said, and I’m a little tired.” She withdrew her hand from Rafe’s before he could raise it to his lips.

“Shall we take tea on Friday?” Amelia asked as a footman put down the step.

“Thank you, but I don’t know if I’ll be in London. It depends on what my husband wishes. I’ll send a note.”

Selina escaped inside and wearily climbed the stairs. She dabbed away tears with a handkerchief. When she entered her chamber where Sarah waited yawning, Selina could hardly speak for the lump in her throat. “Undo my gown and corset then go to bed, Sarah.”

Alone in the room, Selina slowly undressed and brushed her hair. In the mirror, her pale, confused face stared back at her. Was a happy life conceivable for her and Devereux? The possibility seemed to have moved further away than ever.

Despite sleeping poorly, Selina was up early the next morning. After breakfast, she took a hackney to Army Headquarters and asked the guard to inform Mr. Scovell she wished to see him.

Relieved that he consented to see her, Selina took the proffered seat in his office. She relayed everything that had transpired the previous evening. She had deliberated about this course of action for most of the night. If Devereux was working for the French, she might make things worse for him, and although she didn’t believe that for a moment, she deliberately withheld Lord Pemberton’s name.

“Miles Pemberton, eh?” Scovell leaned back in his chair.

She gasped

He nodded. “I thought so.”

Selina leaned forward. “Is he my husband’s friend or not, Mr. Scovell? You must tell me.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Do what they say, Lady Halcrow. Put the article in the newspaper. When Lord Halcrow appears, I’ll have men there to deal with whoever else shows up.”

Selina looked the man in the eye. “And if Devereux’s in some kind of trouble, I will have presented him to you on a platter.”

Scovell looked annoyingly unflappable. “You have my word as a gentleman that Lord Halcrow is not a French spy. No harm will come to him at our hands.”

Was he telling the truth? She stared into eyes, which, infuriatingly, revealed nothing. “Then why is my husband in hiding?”

He folded his arms. “It has been said that Wellington treats his men’s lives as no more than mice in an air pump.”

She scowled. “You’re very good at saying absolutely nothing of relevance, Mr. Scovell.”

That brought a brief smile to his craggy face. “We need our man to come home and can find no way to contact him. If you don’t do this, with us onside, Lady Halcrow, someone else might attempt it. And they may not have the earl’s safety at heart.”

Selina rubbed her forehead. “I see I’ll have to trust you. I’ll agree to place the piece in
The Times
, but I want your assurance that my husband
will
be made safe.”

“This may gather more spies in its net, Lady Halcrow, which is assuredly good for England.”

“That is not a very reassuring answer.”

He shrugged. “This is not a very reassuring business we’re in.”

Chapter Seventeen

In the flickering light of a silver branch of candles, Selina worked late into the night, her discarded efforts screwed up and scattered around her on the floor. She dipped the pen into the inkwell again. She knew so little of Devereux, and they had never been intimate. What could she write that only he and she knew? Then his words came back to her.
I’d like to unwrap you like a present
… She remembered the fierce, hot look in his eyes, and the blood hummed in her veins. Could she be so bold? It was, without doubt, the one thing he would believe came from her.

She blushed as she wrote the simple statement:
Dear D,
y
our present is here in London and awaits your unwrapping. You know where to find it.

The next morning,
Selina traveled in a hackney with Sarah to
The Times
editorial office in Printing House Square in Blackfriars. She filled out the form herself to ensure it would appear in the Friday edition, as she’d been instructed.

She returned to George Scovell on Thursday and told him what she’d done. She was profoundly relieved when, apart from a glimmer of a smile tugging his lips, he failed to ask her what the words meant. He instructed her on what to expect and that she was on no account to leave the house at any time during the night.

By Friday morning, beyond a cup of strong tea, Selina couldn’t take a bite of breakfast. She could think of nothing but her words appearing in
The Times
. The butler had brought the newspaper to her, but it remained in front of her until she’d summoned up enough courage to open it. Finally, with shaky hands, she turned the pages. And there it was. Her embarrassing request in black and white. Her cheeks flamed. Would Devereux see it? Pemberton and Scovell seemed confident he would. Scovell had told her the newspaper was routinely used for communications such as this. What would Devereux make of it? Might it draw him further into danger? A part of her began to hope that he wasn’t in London but away somewhere safe. That he would never see it.

As she must continue to act as normally as possible, she met Amelia for tea at Mivart’s Hotel in Brooke Street in the afternoon.

The waiter served them afternoon tea while Amelia chatted about a musicale she’d attended the previous evening, which she’d greatly enjoyed. As she rattled on, her intense gaze rested on Selina.

When Selina offered nothing to the conversation, Amelia’s exuberance died away. She nibbled on seed cake. “When do you expect the earl to return?”

“I’m not sure of his plans. I do miss him. We must have you and Lord Rowntree to dinner when they are both in London,” Selina said. “What business has taken Lord Rowntree from you?”

Amelia’s gaze darted away. “He has interests in the north.”

“Perhaps we’ll have a hunt ball at Halcrow Hall,” Selina mused. “Has Lord Rowntree ever been there?”

“He has never mentioned visiting,” Amelia said with a sliver of unreadable emotion in her cool eyes.

“I thought it likely they’d spend holidays together. Which college at Cambridge did Lord Rowntree reside in?”

“I’m sure he told me.” Amelia shrugged. “I confess I wasn’t much interested.”

“I do look forward to meeting a friend of my husband’s.” Selina lowered her teacup to the saucer. “Where were you married?”

Amelia’s eyes narrowed. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Goodness, is that the time? I must go. I have another engagement.” She stood and held out her hand. “It was delightful to see you again, Lady Halcrow.”

“We must do this again soon,” Selina said, noting the formal address.

“Ah, yes. We must make it soon.” Amelia gathered up her gloves and reticule and hurried from the hotel.

The hackney put Selina down in Park Lane. She searched the street for a sign the house was watched, but could find nothing unusual. Surely not the flower seller, the street sweeper down on the corner, the old peddler hawking wares, or the governess ushering her charges into the park.

Verbal fencing with Amelia had been draining. Selina’s shoulders sagged as she entered the house. The stress of the previous weeks had begun to take its toll. How fitting was Shakespeare:
When sorrows come, they come not single spies but in battalions.

She toyed with her dinner and claimed she was accustomed to country hours, retiring early to bed with no intention of sleeping. She must stay alert for any sign but closed her eyes for a moment to rest them.

Something woke her. Silvery moonlight rimmed the curtains. She lifted her head, fearing the full moon could prove deadly for Giles. His given name had popped unprompted into her head. Devereux had become Giles to her and would remain so, forever. A stealthy shadow crossed the room. She opened her mouth, but before she could utter a word, a hand clamped down and silenced her.

The mattress dipped when he settled on the bed beside her.

Her heart fluttered in her chest like a caged bird’s. She sucked in air as though it was her last breath. And maybe it was.

She considered biting the hand if it wasn’t Giles. Then she detected the scent of musk. “You wished to see me, my lady?”

She trembled and shook her head, attempting to peel his fingers away from her mouth.

“You promise to be quiet?”

When she nodded, he removed his hand. “Surely you didn’t come through the window?” she whispered. “We are two stories above the road.”

“The roof of the neighboring house is quite handy.”

“You jumped across?”

“Shush.” Rising, he opened the curtains, and moonlight brightened the room. He struggled out of his coat and reefed off his cravat.

She longed to see his dear face. “Unless you close them, I can’t light a candle.”

“That’s not wise, Selina. The house will be watched.”

“I know, I.…”

“You set me up?” His voice had a steely edge.

“I did not. Mr. Scovell is behind this.”

“When did you speak to the spymaster?”

“Scovell is the spymaster? I went to consult him. This is not exactly his
idea, but he needs to see you urgently.”

“Does he indeed?” he said, his tone ironic. He released a long, audible breath. “Have you missed me?”

“Of course,” she said in a choked voice.

“Despite all I’ve done to you?”

“I believe you had good reason.” She would question the manner of it, however. But now was not the time. All her thoughts were superfluous but one. She wanted his arms around her, and more… She didn’t know precisely what it was she wanted, but she was shuddering with desire.

“I’ve given you little reason to trust me.” His breath was warm against her ear.

“That’s true. You haven’t.”

His laugh was low, throaty, and made her tremble. Would she ever be able to win an argument? The man was so annoyingly magnetic. She wanted answers to her questions, but having him so close was like an opiate. Her brain couldn’t focus. Desire mixed with blind fear. She wanted to push him away and tell him to run and draw him back against her at the same time. She trembled and stroked his hair, remembering the intimacy of cutting it.

“You never cease to amaze me, Selina. I chose you because you were imperturbable and smart. I thought you’d make the perfect wife for someone in my situation. You’ve been all that, sweetheart, but
so
much more. You’ve been my lifesaver in a stormy sea.”

Her throat tightened on tears. She hadn’t expected such a ringing endorsement from him, and even though it wasn’t a declaration of love, it would do. If only…

His finger stroked down her cheek. “What’s this? You’re crying?”

Had she been a pawn in his fate? “Is Lord Pemberton a loyal friend?”

“Pem? I believe so.”

“He and some other friends suspect you spy for the French.”

“They are not alone in that view.”

“They still want to help you.”

“Do they indeed? I confess to being skeptical.
Even if my name is cleared, spying isn’t seen as an honorable profession. My reputation as an officer and a gentleman has been dragged through the mud.”

“You should go.” She pushed against his rock-hard arm. “They will have seen the piece in the paper and know you’re here. Let Scovell’s men deal with them.”

He took her hand and enveloped it in his big, warm one. “I’ll be gone before daybreak.”

“Daybreak? You can stay that long?”

“ We are safe for a few hours.”

Unconvinced, she shivered, as ice ran down her spine. “I need to understand.”

“I shall tell you as much as I can, in due course. But not now.” With a soft groan, his mouth slid over hers, silencing her. Her hands roamed down his back to draw up his shirt, urgently seeking his warm, smooth skin.

Giles teased her lips apart. His tender assault of the cavern of her mouth was incredibly arousing. His hand cradled her head as her tongue danced with his and she abandoned herself to the whirl of sensation.

His powerful body settled half over hers, his hardness pressing at the apex of her legs through his breeches, as an aching tension built. “I wish I had more time. Hours, months, years to enjoy you and to teach you all the wonders of lovemaking,” he whispered.

“I’ll insist on it when we return home,” she said, her voice catching in her throat, willing herself to believe it. She took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his, as if to prove it true.

He dragged his mouth from hers and stroked up her ribcage, to tweak a nipple through the thin cloth of her nightgown, producing a shuddering ecstasy. Warmth pooled between her thighs.

“You smell so sweet, Selina, and your body so warm and soft.” He bunched her nightgown up to her thighs. “Shall I unwrap my present first before I’m driven mad with desire?”

She caught her breath. “Yes, Giles, yes.”

“Damn, I wish I could see you more clearly. You’re so lovely.” He cupped her breasts in his hands and thumbed the nipples.